


Caged By Frail and Fragile Bars

by publicspeaking



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Lydia is Perfect, M/M, Mangst, Manpain, Pining, lots of stiles feels, nobody uses their words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/publicspeaking/pseuds/publicspeaking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to find your place in life when you're only human and feel completely replaceable. Or, how Stiles finds out that while yes, he is completely human, he is irreplaceable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged By Frail and Fragile Bars

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody! First and foremost thank you for taking the time to read this, because it means a lot to me. Second! I couldn't actually find their birthdays without getting conflicting information, so I sort of just made them up to fit the story the way I wanted. Third, this is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors I missed and yes I really am having a passionate love affair with the comma. Fourth! The blue moon mentioned is actually in the March of 2020, which is actually going to have blue moons in both January and March, so look out for that in seven and a half years. 
> 
> Title is from the Johnny Cash song "The Beast In Me", which kind of reminds me of Derek and is really perfect and you can all listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8tGCVavS5s

When Stiles gets home from the warehouse, all he feels is empty. There’s a dull ache in his chest, like a mist fogging over all his organs, encompassing him and deleting him cell by cell. He sleeps for a day, ignores his father’s knocks on his door, turns off his phone and locks his window. The truth is, he doesn’t want to see Scott, doesn’t want to see Lydia, doesn’t want to see Derek. What he wants is new friends and a normal life, one that doesn’t make him feel useless and alone and just so thoroughly empty. He doesn’t want to make his dad worry, never wants to see that look on his face again that he had when Stiles has come in broken and bruised, that worry that aged him because he was all his dad had left in the world, and to lose him too would destroy him. He’s done enough damage, he thinks, and he doesn’t want to hurt anybody else anymore. He wants new, he wants fixable, but the truth is that Stiles never gets what he wants.

After a week, he mans up and calls Scott. They take the jeep to the field to toss around some lacrosse balls, because his dad was right, for one night on the field, Stiles was a hero. He wants to feel that way again, and if chasing after glory is the only way he can stop the emptiness from creeping up on him and swallowing him whole, he’ll embrace it. Chasing unobtainable goals? Yeah, that he can do. He’s used to the feeling of failure.

\--

The summer, it turns out, does not go by without incident. Stiles would have loved it to, would have loved a fucking break from crazy supernatural shit trying to destroy his life and relationship with his father, but that would mean actually getting something he wants, which, nope, never actually happens. The alpha pack looms around, threatening and making everybody nervous and on edge, but unlike when Peter was their crazy alpha, no one’s getting murdered. The alphas know better, just find different ways to threaten Derek and the pack, and well, there’s a lot of attempted kidnapping going on. It never actually pans out, because all of Derek’s betas are wild things; Isaac is basically a baby Derek - alone and codependent on the pack because that’s all he has left, Boyd’s got that terror running through him of trying to fix the massive mistake he made in becoming a werewolf, and Erica’s angry and scared and trying to be much braver than she actually is. They’re a pack because they need to be, because if they don’t work together they’ll all die, but there’s no real trust there. They’re fighting for their lives, Boyd and Erica for each other more than the rest of the pack. Scott gets pulled back into the fold because of course he does, he always does. Nothing ever changes, except Jackson’s a werewolf instead of a killer lizard monster, so he’s there too, fighting with them and being the general asshole he always has been. The biggest problem is that with Jackson comes Lydia now and Stiles can’t really handle being in a room with the two of them for so long, that night flashing back to him almost every single time when he has a free moment to think to himself, that soul crushing way that she told Jackson she loved him, the way his dreams all died a painful death like he had hoped Gerard was. They’re a ragtag pack, an alpha who has no idea what he’s doing, his crazy zombie uncle that Stiles cannot trust or even look in the eye (all he remembers is the way that Peter looked at him that night of the formal, the way he held onto his wrist and offered him the bite and it’s not okay, it’s never been okay), five teenage betas (two of whom refuse to submit to Derek because Scott is Scott and Stiles loves him for it and because Jackson has always been and probably will always be a self involved dick), and two humans. But Lydia fills the researcher role better than he ever did, because she’d do anything to save Jackson and because she’s smart enough to have all the answers, and he’s useless once again. He’s comic relief because hey, that’s all he’s really good for.

Stiles gets kidnapped by the alphas twice. The first happens in July, and really it was his mistake for thinking that he could spend a relaxing day werewolf free in his backyard, soaking the sun into his pale skin. A shadow blocks out the sun and Stiles knows even before he opens his eyes that something bad is going to happen and, low and behold, it does. He winds up tied up in a warehouse, punched around a little bit because he’s bait and because they want to send a message and all he can think is Gerard Argent and how much his life has sucked since he’d become a human punching bag, a message to be sent to the pack because he is the weakest link in the chain. He mouths off to pass the time and to get under the skin of everyone around him, to grate at the alphas’ nerves, because at the end of the day, his wit is all he has.

The cavalry arrives and there’s a fight, but Stiles gets to hear about it after the fact, because he managed to get knocked out right about the time Derek came bursting through the door, eyes red and totally wolfed out. He gets called an idiot for getting captured from just about everybody, storms off and goes to hide in his room again, wondering when from his best friend being a werewolf turned from maybe kind of cool when he was in his right mind to completely fucking sucking.

The second time, Stiles almost dies. His Jeep breaks down just outside the edge of the forest and he’s trying to fix her when he gets hit in the head and everything goes black. He wakes up in a run down house and he’s pretty sure he’s in the bad side of town.

“What is it with werewolves and creepy unsanitary living spaces?” He snarks and winds up with claws swiped across his face for it, feels the warm blood trickle down his cheek in four straight lines, can taste it in the corner of his mouth. The first time, it was one of the women watching him, more tolerable of his bullshit, but this time around it’s one of the guys, the one that always seems to be out for Derek’s blood the most. He has no qualms about marking Stiles up, about making sure he keeps his mouth shut, doesn’t care if people will ask questions about it later. Because this time, Stiles isn’t sure if there will be a later, not when he can hear the guy on the phone with another one of the pack, growling about just killing him and leaving his body on Derek’s porch. The alphas seem to work democratically, all of them having to decide on what the best course of action is, rather than following the rules of one leader, which sort of makes sense to Stiles. It’s not like Derek is the best leader for them, he makes terrible fucking decisions most of the time and doesn’t listen to anybody else, and hell if they weren’t trying to kill him, Stiles thinks that Derek could really learn a thing or two from the alphas. But the problem is they actually do want to kill them, all of them, and it’s just really not okay.

The thing is, Stiles knows what’s keeping him alive is that he’s the sheriff’s kid, and the alphas don’t really want the police on their tails. They don’t want to be fugitives because they’re not stupid (Derek could learn so much) and they know that if Stiles winds up dead, it will all lead back to them. Instead, the alphas, two of the guys, bigger and stronger than him, they beat the hell out of him. Worse than any ass kicking he’d ever had before, leaving Stiles barely able to support himself on his hands and knees, coughing up blood and the kind of pain that means cracked ribs and maybe a punctured lung. He’s a message to the pack and that’s why they let him go in the woods, bruised and bloody and broken. They think he’ll go to Derek, they figure he’s that stupid, that he’ll lead them right to him, or that Derek will smell injured pack or something and come save him, but that’s not how it happens. Derek doesn’t come, because Stiles isn’t pack, not really, and Stiles knows where he needs to go.

He collapses on the Argents’ doorstep after ringing the doorbell. He hears later that when he was in the hospital, Chris and Allison teamed up with the pack again and took down the alphas. Killed a few, that was Derek and Peter, he heard, but the rest were sent scattering, to spread the word that the Hales and Argents had formed some kind of truce for the time being, that as long as the code wasn’t broken, if you tried to fight a Hale, you’d have the fury of Argent upon you. Things are pretty quiet after that.

\--

Junior year starts and Stiles feels like everything had changed in the short span of nine months. Last year he and Scott had been nobodies, barely on the radar of anyone and now they were somewhere near the top of the food chain. Scott and Jackson got oddly close when Stiles has been in the hospital recovering from near death by werewolf, and Stiles had people who had never looked at him twice asking him if he was alright after his attack by the creepy squatters in the woods. Danny had been indoctrinated into the pack when they needed his computer skills, not a werewolf, but still more useful than Stiles, the human bait. It was weird sitting with them, talking about things that he couldn’t be a part of anymore since his massive grounding and his fear that what he had been up to was going to give his father a heart attack.

It was kind of too easy to ditch the pack at lunch and sit with Allison, to maybe feel like outsiders looking in on people they used to love together, because it was too much for both of them to take. It was a surprisingly easy friendship when it came down to it, they had both loved Scott fiercely in different ways, but pack was his first priority now, and Stiles didn’t fit into the pack, and Allison didn’t really either. Besides, he owed her, after almost dying on her doorstep and everything, the least he could do was keep her from eating lunch alone because being new and having a whole bunch of her family die in some pretty fucked up ways and being sort of on the outs with Lydia Martin’s crew... well, it didn’t make her the most desirable person to be around. So friends, he proposed to her and she agreed, because they had to start somewhere.

\--

Really, Stiles should have expected that Scott wouldn’t take it well. It wasn’t like it was the first time Scott had tried to kill him or anything, and he knew better than anyone how crazy Allison had tended to make him, but he had thought maybe Scott would use his brain and realize that Stiles would never do anything to hurt him. And no matter how much Scott would apologize once he started thinking again, being thrown into a set of lockers when he was still on the mend hurt like a fucking bitch and he couldn’t help but fight back the sting of tears in his eyes, not even bothering to attempt to push back Scott, because at this point, he knew better.

“Just because you’re giving up on Lydia doesn’t mean you need to go after Allison!” And Stiles wants to scream at him, tell him how big of an idiot he’s being, because he doesn’t want Allison, he just wants a friend who gets how hard this whole all my friends are werewolves or useful to werewolves thing really is. He pushes at Scott’s hand to try and get him to stop pinning him to the lockers, to remind him that Stiles is supposed to be out on the soccer field right now because he’s determined to spend the next two years not being nobody, not being anything but Scott McCall’s best friend.

“You’re an idiot, dude.” Is all the says and Scott’s eyes turn from gold to brown, like he’s finally figured it out, like he can hear it in Stiles’ heartbeat, can smell it on him.

“I’m sorry, I just...” Stiles doesn’t let him finish, just holds up a hand to stop him before he can whine about how much loving Allison from afar hurts because she’s the only one that’s mattered since she stepped into their lives.

“Whatever save it.” Stiles fixes his shin guards and pulls up his socks, walks out of the locker room and heads to the field. Chasing a ball around makes him feel a little better, and hey, he’s actually not that bad.

\--

When he gets out of the shower, Derek is sitting in his computer chair, engrossed in whatever he’s looking up on the internet. He should be freaked out by the intrusion, but it was his fault for leaving his bedroom window open to get some air, because of course Derek would come in. Scott had probably said something, and Derek was here on his behalf or whatever, he never actually knew what was going on when it came to him.

“I thought Peter upgraded you to the twenty first century already, what are you doing using mine? Did he put parental controls on there so you can’t look at porn, because dude, I really don’t appreciate you beating off in my room, especially when I’m here.” He was not at all thinking about Derek jerking off as he slipped on a pair of clean boxers under his towel, was not wishing he would leave right that second so he _could_ actually think about that, alone, by himself, in the company of his hand. Because whatever personality flaws Derek had, to say he was anything but mind blowingly gorgeous would be a complete and utter lie. It was just a shame he was a total dick.

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek didn’t even bother to look away from the screen, and Stiles took that as a cue that he wasn’t leaving any time soon, which meant that lounging around half naked was just not going to happen. He was still pale and scrawny and all limbs, new scars littering his skin from the past ten months of trauma his body had undergone. Derek had moved to printing something out, his focus on that rather than Stiles pulling on a decently clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn’t exactly smell dirty.

“So you’re just here because I have a printer? Cause dude, there’s a copier store in town, you can easily go there, instead of you know, breaking and entering.” He hears Derek’s loud huff, doesn’t even have to look at him to know when he’s getting an eye roll.

“You haven’t been coming to the pack meetings. So, here are the minutes, so you’re up to date.” Derek’s shoving the papers at Stiles and for once he’s kind of speechless, gaping open mouthed at the papers, the neat outlines that are so probably Lydia’s doing, because this is way too much. It’s organized and proper and he’s kind of blown away by it all.

“I’m not pack though.” He doesn’t mean for it to be the first thing out of his mouth, means to say something about how ridiculous it is that their werewolf pack meetings now come with notes, that they discuss things like potential threats and what to do on the upcoming full moon and fixing up the Hale house and what to watch on movie nights _and then take notes of it all_.

“You idiot, of course you’re pack. Humans can be pack too. Lydia’s pack, Danny’s pack, you’re pack.” Derek sounds annoyed, like he’s talking to a child he has no patience for, and Stiles is getting real tired of this shit. He gets why Derek is annoyed, because Derek never has any patience for anyone, he just expects them to get what he means without using any actual words. But Stiles has been breaking for a long time, and it’s like the last straw, he’s going to explode if Derek keeps being such a dick.

“Yeah, but they’re useful? They can do shit I can’t do, and people actually seem to want them around so.” He shrugs, because yeah, it’s true. It’s impossible to not like Danny, he’s made of sunshine and puppies and he’s smart and actually nice to everybody. And Lydia, she’s perfect. Always has been, smart and beautiful and keeping Jackson in line and fixing everybody’s problems, because that’s what she does. They’re both better than Stiles in so many ways, and he’s tired of being the low man on the totem pole, he wants to be something more than that.

“What are you talking about? Everyone wants you around.” Everyone is stretching it and Stiles knows that, it’s probably just Scott at this point, and really after Scott had accused him of trying to go after Allison, he wasn’t on the list of people Stiles wanted to talk to.

“Yeah okay, great pep talk, I’ll see about the next one, pencil you in, see if I’m not doing anything better...”

“I want you around.” Derek cuts him off and Stiles is kind of stunned at that, finally meeting Derek’s eye for the first time since he’d come out of the bathroom. Since the alphas left, Derek’s been different, a little smarter about things, a little kinder to the betas, a little more together. There’s a little bit of the sadness lifted off him since he has a pack again, a family again, and maybe it’ll never be gone, but his smile seems a little easier now. And Derek’s there, he’s smiling at him, a little upward tilt of the lips, but it’s there and Stiles isn’t dreaming this. “So come to the meetings. It’s not the same without you.” Stiles’ stomach does a couple of flips at that, at the way Derek is looking at him like he’s actually someone that kind of matters rather than just something he could wipe off the bottom of his boot.

“I... yeah I uh...” The words get caught when he catches sight of ridiculous white teeth and god Derek is so stupidly attractive when he smiles that Stiles doesn’t even have words. He just kind of stares at him as he moves to the window, stopping to turn back to Stiles for a last word, and really he’s totally okay with that.

“Good. I trust you won’t let me down.” He’s out the window and gone again when his words actually hit Stiles’ brain. _I trust you._ Holy shit.

\--

Hanging out with Derek isn’t like hanging out with the rest of the pack. Sure, Peter creeps around a lot and majorly weirds Stiles out, but when it’s just the two of them, things feel better than they have for a long time. And maybe it’s just because he knows how to make Derek smile, and that those smiles sort of make Stiles feel like things might be okay, but whatever it is, he feels like maybe some of that emptiness is going away. It’s slow going, but every day, things feel a little easier, a little lighter. They don’t even do much most days. Stiles will show up to the house after practice and do his homework while Derek works on the house, replacing floorboards and putting up drywall. The rest of the pack usually finds their way over later most days, but the early evenings between five and seven when Stiles’ dad is working are just theirs, to do as they please.

Stiles doesn’t feel lonely anymore, and that’s sort of the best thing about it. Derek doesn’t expect anything out of him, except maybe a hand here and there when he asks for it, but nothing more. He doesn’t give Stiles shit for being himself, and sure he tells him to shut up sometimes, but it’s usually with a fondness that’s grown over time, with a roll of his eyes and a smile. Its mutual maybe, because Derek makes him smile a little easier, makes him feel a little less like he’s got the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

Derek comes to his games sometimes, once or twice the whole pack comes more or less, but the soccer team is nowhere near as successful as their lacrosse team. They don’t make any championships, but it was a fun season, and Stiles is kind of grateful when it’s over in December. The holiday season stays quiet, the pack splitting up to spend time with their families, but meeting together after their last day of school to exchange gifts. It’s like a family, with their fights and their make ups; with the way they all find ways to love each other. It’s nice, Stiles thinks, really nice.

\--

His seventeenth birthday comes and goes, and Stiles expects nothing from anyone for it, but he gets to Derek’s that night for a pack meeting and is pleasantly surprised to see everyone there in party hats bearing gifts. It’s nothing really special, not like Lydia’s birthday or anything, but it’s more than he’s had since his mom died and he’s kind of stupidly happy all night.

“Derek planned it all.” Lydia tells him later, giving him a tight squeeze and he’s okay, because he’s been doing this friends thing for a few months now, has had time to adjust to the fact that every future he dreamed with her is never going to happen.

“Have you reconsidered?” He holds onto her tightly as he laughs the words into her hair, but he knows what her answer will be.

“Nope.” But her word is paired with laughter and he can’t help but smile, accepting the kiss on the cheek she gives him when he lets her go. This doesn’t hurt like it would have months ago, and he loves her, but in a different way. “Now go say thank you to Derek.” He’s not sure why she’s pushing him towards the older man, but he doesn’t question it, just laughs and waves to her as he makes his way through the house to find him. He finds him on the porch, still half rebuilt because his focus has mostly been on making the inside livable. It’s not like Stiles can sneak up on him, Derek could probably hear him coming from a mile away, but it’s nice that he doesn’t move, that he lets Stiles wrap his arms around his middle and press his cheek into his back. A year ago, Derek would have flinched away from this touch, but instead he moves his arm back to grab at Stiles’ shirt, to bring him to his front and slip his arm around his shoulders. They stand like that for awhile, Stiles’ hand curled into a fist in Derek’s shirt and Derek’s hand resting on the back of Stiles’ neck, rubbing at his skin slowly.

“Thanks Derek.” He mumbles, but it’s not like his words won’t be heard, just lets his eyes close and breathe it all in, the scent of Derek and the woods and the crisp winter air. He’s not cold, not with Derek next to him. If anything he’s comfortable, more comfortable than he’s been in a long time.

\--

Stiles goes to the winter formal stag. He dances with Lydia and Allison and Erica, even with Danny when his boyfriend doesn’t mind, but he sticks with his friends, his pack. He could have made an effort and tried to ask someone else, sure, but the thing was that Stiles couldn’t think of anyone he even wanted to be there with. Derek had always been the first person to come to his mind, that it sucked that he couldn’t come because he wasn’t in high school (and that it was totally weird that Derek basically only hung out with high schoolers). So stag it was, and it had been fine, at least until the songs slowed down. Then they split down into the couples they belonged in, Scott and Allison (and everyone was pretending they couldn’t see them both break down during the dance), Jackson and Lydia, Boyd and Erica. Isaac didn’t have a date but girls sort of fell all over themselves for him, so he had no trouble finding a girl to dance with. Stiles though, he didn’t want to, didn’t really care to. All he felt was the overwhelming need to go get some air, slipping out through the back of the gym.

If he hadn’t spent a year knowing Derek Hale, he probably would have been surprised to see him hanging around the gym.

“You look like such a creep.” The grin that came with his words was mostly involuntary; Derek lurking around was more funny than weird these days. He was mostly definitely a hot older guy, but he still hung around teenagers and had zero social skills. Derek just shrugged and they crossed the space between them, sitting down together on the curb.

“I’m just making sure everything’s alright...”

“Uh huh, sure you’re just jealous cause we’re all out and you’re stuck home alone. Cause admit it, you love us, you’re like our creepy proud dad.” He didn’t need to see Derek to know he was rolling his eyes again, just moved in to the older man and rested his head on his shoulder. It was peaceful, the way it wasn’t inside the gym, kind of exactly what he wanted.

“Why aren’t you in there?”

“Needed some air. Everyone’s dancing, and I kind of didn’t want to be the only one not? It looks pathetic and I feel pathetic, but I don’t want to slow dance with anybody. None of the girls are her, you know?” Stiles leaned in closer when Derek’s arm slipped around his shoulder, his hand resting on the concrete next to Derek’s side. “Hey, Derek, dance with me.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” He said it with a laugh though, and Stiles counted that as a win, closing his eyes at the feel of Derek’s fingers rubbing at the nape of his neck. He always knew what to do to make Stiles feel more comfortable, like whatever happened from that moment on, it would all be okay.

\--

He’s not the captain of the lacrosse team, but he’s actually first line for the season. Girls pay more attention to him; especially after the games he scores a couple of goals, but for some reason Stiles can’t bring himself to really care about any of them. He makes up excuses when they ask him out, and he knows his friends worry.

Lydia sits him down one day after a pack meeting, forcing him into Derek’s kitchen and closing the door behind them so if any of the wolves get back from their run while they’re still in there they know not to come in.

“Is this still because of me?” She’s blunt with him because she needs to be and Stiles immediately shakes his head, because he knows where she’s coming from, what this is all about.

“No, no I mean, I get why you think that but it’s not that at all, I’m just not interested.” The truth is he’s still a little bit empty inside when it comes to other people, and the thought of getting into a relationship with someone outside the pack, to bring them in to the fold when his friends are so important to him... Stiles just can’t see it. Doesn’t really want it. He doesn’t want the drama, doesn’t want to get hurt anymore.

“I’m just worried about you, we all are.” Lydia’s sweet with him sometimes, because she knows him now, because she’s just as amazing as he thought she would be, but she’s not his, never will be. Stiles just smiles at her, encroaches on her personal space to rest against her side, her nails grazing through his short hair slowly.

“It’s not that I don’t want anybody but you, you know, I just don’t want anybody right now. I don’t want to get hurt.” He admits quietly and they sit like that in the kitchen for awhile, quiet and close, waiting for the rest of the pack to come back.

\--

Stiles feels Lydia’s eyes on him later when they’re all piled in the living room to watch a movie. She’s on the big armchair with Jackson, and the rest of the betas and Scott are basically a tangle on the couch, Stiles and Derek together on the loveseat. He never thinks anything of how they always sit like this, because it’s how they always work. Nobody else ever actually wants to sit with Derek, they’re all kind of afraid of him most of the time, Stiles thinks, but he’s not, he knows that out of all of them, he’s the last person Derek would ever actually hurt. So they always sit together, Stiles’ head resting on Derek’s thigh, legs swung over the arm of the chair, eyes focused on the TV, Derek’s fingers in his hair or on his neck, but always moving idly, like he can’t sit still. It’s not like he complains about it, good things don’t happen to him often and if Derek touching him can soothe him even when he’s keyed up, he’ll take all of it that he can get.

He’s never really thought about it before though, not until he feels Lydia’s stare and looks to her to see her knowing smile, the way she looks away quickly when he mouths ‘what’ at her. He turns his attention back to the TV before looking up to Derek, really taking him in. He’s looked at him before, but never really appreciated what he was looking at. Most of the early times Derek had been threatening him in one way or another and when they were working together there was always some kind of distraction, and well it couldn’t be said that Stiles was very good at paying attention to things all the time. He knew he was attractive, but never really focused on the little things, like the slope of his jaw when it was relaxed, the curve of his lips still set in a straight line. He wasn’t angry anymore, but a serious poker face seemed to be his default, because smiles still weren’t something that was easy. And his eyes, god his eyes, so focused on what was going on, the sadness still lingering on behind them. It was always there, the reason why his smile never met his eyes, because he had lost everything, had been forced to rebuild. Stiles can’t imagine what it would be like to lose everybody, losing his mom had done enough damage, but Derek had been completely alone. Hell, half the time he still was, because everybody had somebody else to go to, had plans, had school, had things that didn’t involve the pack, had reasons they didn’t need him.

He hadn’t realized he was staring until Derek looked down at him, cocking his head like a confused dog rather than actually opening his mouth and using words. To Stiles, it had always been, and probably would always be, completely fucking adorable. Moving his hand across Stiles’ chest, Derek tapped two fingers against his heart, because that’s what alerted him to what was going on, the change in his heartbeat. Stiles just smiled and shrugged, because yeah, it did, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Everything was okay and the last thing he wanted to do was make Derek nervous unnecessarily.

So, maybe moping over Lydia wasn’t the real reason he didn’t want to date. He could totally handle this.

\--

Stiles takes Beth Werner to junior prom. She hadn’t exactly been quiet about her crush on him since he had made first line, and she had flat out asked him in the lunchroom once tickets went on sale. She had caught him by surprise and he had been about to say no, to make up some excuse about not wanting to go or something - really he had intended on spending the night at Derek’s watching action movies and playing video games, because Derek had A LOT of catching up to do on all of these fronts, and really integrating Derek into normal society had sort of become Stiles’ job. But Lydia had kicked him under the table and he had sputtered out a yes and that was how he winds up in a limo that didn’t contain a single one of his friends with a girl he really didn’t like.

It’s not like there’s anything wrong with Beth. She’s pretty, not like Lydia or Allison or Erica pretty, but pretty in her own way. She’s decent company at least, making Stiles wonder what his life would be like if there were no werewolves, if he could actually give her a chance instead of pining over Derek Hale and his broody face. He’d have been thrilled to date her, hell to have a girl ask him to prom would have been a big deal, but what could have been isn’t his life. He wears a red tie to match her dress, buys her a corsage and takes the limo with her friends, takes a long swig from the flask being passed around. He’s a little tipsy by the time they make it to the hotel the prom’s being held at, but no one can actually tell a buzzed Stiles from a hyper active Stiles, so he’s good. He dances and he drinks and he has a good time, ditches Beth a few times to hang out with his friends. He dances with Lydia and Erica and Scott even lets go of Allison long enough to let Stiles get a dance with her in too, because even though they’re still technically not together, they’re really bad at the not being together thing.

Beth blows him in a closet when the party is winding down. It’s not like Stiles wasn’t a willing participant, he knew exactly what she was doing, just wanted to feel someone else touching him like they wanted him, so he let her. He feels like an asshole afterwards and apologizes over and over again, but she brushes his apologies off, whispers to him that she has a room booked upstairs where they can continue the party, just the two of them. He’s impressed by how forward she is, he really is, but there’s a lead weight in his stomach and he can’t do it, can’t bring himself to go upstairs with her knowing what it would mean. And he feels stupid, because he’s a seventeen year old boy, he should be psyched to have this opportunity to lose his virginity, but he doesn’t want to date her. He thinks about his mom and how disappointed in him she’d be, and he can’t apologize enough to Beth, yells another one over his shoulder as he runs to try and catch Scott and the group before they head to Derek’s for the night.

Stiles missed their limo, but the good thing about going with a different group was that he had paid into their limo, and only a few of them were using it to get home. It was an awkward ride, dropping the rest of the group off at their houses with his shirt untucked and half drunk, knowing he left Beth crying at the hotel, but he has places to be, a pack to rejoin. The limo surprisingly makes the trip all the way into the woods to the Hale house and Stiles tips the guy extra as he heads out, hearing his friends’ laughter towards the back of the house. There’s music and he smells the barbeque going, lanterns set up in the middle of the logs they have stacked in a circle to sit on, because in no way would Derek and Peter let them have a bonfire near the house. So its lanterns and music and food and friends, and Stiles feels like he can breathe again, giving everybody ridiculously long hugs because he’s drunk and this is his family and he loves them all.

“Where’s Derek?” He finally asks after he’s eaten two burgers and sobered up a little more, because even in the dim light the lanterns are putting out, he can tell that they’re down a certain alpha. Someone says inside and he shrugs and sets off to go find him, ditching his shoes on the back porch to try to not mess up the new wood flooring Derek spent a ridiculous amount of money on. “Derek!” He calls out in the dark house, and it feels a little weird, like he’s trespassing or something. The first thing that comes to mind is Beauty and the Beast, which is so stupid because he is definitely not attractive enough to be considered for that role. Derek would make a good Beast though, and when he’s human he’s definitely way more attractive than the Beast had actually turned out to be. Not that Stiles was looking or anything, he totally did not harbor secret attractions to cartoon characters, let alone Disney princes, especially not ones named Eric who was both attractive and kind of badass.

The thing is, Stiles knows Derek can hear him. He’s hiding for one reason or another and really it’s kind of annoying because all he wants to do is talk to him, to ease the tension that’s been eating at him all day. And maybe it’s weird that now he seeks out Derek of all people to do that with, but there’s nothing more calming to him than just being in his presence, than having Derek’s hand on the back of his neck. He feels safe there, feels at home, and it’s all he wants right now, to forget how weird the night was and just be where he’s comfortable. “Derek...” he calls out again, making his way up the stairs towards his room. It’s no surprise that he finds him in there, the TV on low, eyes shut. It figures he’s sleeping, it is around two in the morning and they’re all just riding high on prom night, but this is all stuff Derek never got to do, stuff he doesn’t understand. Instead of waking him up, Stiles just ditches his tie and his jacket and his pants, crawls under the blankets to lie next to Derek. The older man shifts and Stiles knows he’s actually awake now, but neither of them say anything, Stiles just moves in close, rests his head on Derek’s bare chest and tries to focus his eyes on the TV. He falls asleep counting Derek’s heartbeat.

\--

Stiles and Peter were the only ones who knew Derek’s birthday. Stiles had been the only one curious enough to ask, and well, despite how creepy Peter was, he could at least stomach being around him long enough to get the answer to that question. He’s noticed little things about Derek, how he tends to leave ESPN on when there’s nothing else and that if the Dodgers are playing on a full moon, the game will wind up on the DVR. So when Derek’s birthday rolls around in August, Stiles makes the plans and convinces Derek it’s a good idea to get out of Beacon Hills for a few days, just the two of them and the open road. It’s a surprise, so he refuses to tell him all the plans, but he’s kind of ecstatic when Derek agrees to go and all of this didn’t turn into a steaming pile of shit.

They take the Camaro and Derek drives, follows the GPS and doesn’t actually ask too many questions about where they’re going. Stiles figured he either figured it out already or he really needed this, to get away from Beacon Hills for a few days, to not have to worry about the pack or be in the home where he lost everything. They get to LA a day early, and Stiles makes Derek get them a room because he’s still seventeen and doesn’t exactly want to get in trouble for stealing his dad’s credit card (or you know, explaining to his dad why he used it to get a hotel room in Los Angeles for him and Derek Hale when he was supposed to be spending a few days over at Scott’s). Derek doesn’t complain though, Stiles has long since figured Derek calling him an idiot was a term of endearment, when he didn’t know what to say about the things Stiles did or how awesome he was overall.

They walk around for awhile after dropping off their stuff, being the kind of touristy that Stiles loves and Derek loathes. He knows it’s supposed to be about Derek, it is his birthday after all, but that’s still a day away. Stiles just wants to see the things people always make a big deal about, and Derek just really doesn’t care. He humors Stiles though, walks with him down the walk of fame and stares stonily whenever Stiles stops to take pictures. They stop for food and Derek smiles easier, because he is enjoying this even if he doesn’t want to show that he does. Stiles pays, because it’s Derek’s birthday trip, and Derek complains, but in the end allows it, because they’re sharing a king bed at the hotel and Stiles threatens to kick him all night.

The glow of it all kind of wears off the more Stiles sees the way people look at the two of them together. It’s Los Angeles, there are beautiful people everywhere, but they all look at Derek. They walk down Rodeo and Stiles fights the urge to say something about picking something up for Lydia while they’re there because he’s not that guy anymore, but he notices the women checking Derek out as they walk. Stiles knows Derek notices it, of course he does, he notices everything and just reaches out to touch him, letting his fingers wrap around his wrist, a small smile tugging on his lips. He sees a change in the way people look at them, especially as Derek slips his wrist free and lets his fingers tangle with Stiles’. His heart maybe skips a couple of beats and he smiles a little wider, but he catches sight of an older blonde woman watching them, the look on her face incredulous, like what is someone like Derek doing with someone like Stiles. It makes no sense, and Stiles knows it too, just swallows back how much he enjoys this all because it’s just Derek being Derek, nothing else to it.

They go back to the hotel when Stiles finally gets bored of walking around, throw on ESPN and settle into the bed. It’s so far from the first time they’ve shared a bed that they have a routine down, Derek’s always got the right side and Stiles has the left. There’s nothing to it, Stiles asked him if he minded it after they woke up together after prom, but Derek didn’t have an issue, something about werewolves liking to be in close proximity to their pack. Stiles was pack, so it was okay, and if it just happened to be easier falling asleep to Derek’s heartbeat, hey, he wasn’t going to complain.

“How come you didn’t like me?” Stiles asks, half asleep, Derek’s fingers in his hair. His eyes are closed and he’s barely listening to the TV, counting each heartbeat he hears with his head on Derek’s chest. The air conditioner is blowing loudly to keep this from getting too sticky and gross, Derek already runs a little warmer than everybody else Stiles knows because he’s not only a werewolf, he’s an alpha, and that makes him super hot or something. There were reasons; Stiles just never paid attention enough to know them.

“I like you, what are you talking about?” He hears it from Derek’s chest more than from his lips, feels the fingers still in his hair as Derek tries to figure him out.

“When Scott got bit, and all those months after.” He’s still mumbling but Derek can understand him, he always does, and Stiles can feel the frustration coursing through him at that. Pushing Stiles off his chest, Derek sits up, and Stiles whines before he does the same, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“Stiles. I came back because my sister was murdered. Scott got bit, you’ve been around Scott forever, you know how frustrating he is.” Stiles makes a noise like he’s going to argue before shrugging, because well, Derek’s got him there. “You idiots got me arrested for murder, I had to find the alpha, and it turned out to be Peter and...” Derek shrugs this time, running his fingers through his hair. He looks tired, older than he is, even though he won’t tell Stiles exactly how old he’s turning tomorrow. “It’s not that I didn’t like you, and looking back, I appreciate the stuff you did for me, but... I didn’t really have time to like you.” Stiles feels bad for asking the question, reaches out his hand to scratch at Derek’s scalp the way he likes it when he’s stressed, but Derek just lifts his head up again, smiles that small but genuine thing that punches Stiles in the gut every single time. “Plus you were fucking annoying.”

Stiles tackles him down into the mattress and they wrestle around a little bit; it’s a fruitless fight and he knows it. Derek’s always going to be bigger and stronger, thick and solid with muscle and supernatural powers, and Stiles is lanky and kind of scrawny in comparison. Stiles winds up pinned underneath Derek, the blankets kicked down by their feet and his hands held down next to his head, Derek giving him the _are you done trying to challenge me yet_ grin he’s seen so often. And god, this is all kind of too much for him, he’s seventeen and he’s chock full of hormones and Derek is Derek, he always has made Stiles kind of insane, and the last thing he wants to do is make this awkward. He can’t tear his eyes away from Derek’s lips though, trying to keep from breathing hard, the ache in his chest spurring him on to just kiss him and get it over with. It’s just another Lydia thing he knows though, just another unobtainable person for him to fall in love with so he can’t get hurt by someone real, someone like Beth Werner.

“Why don’t you ever date?” Stiles blurts it out before he can think about it, because part of him wants to hear something sappy and romantic from Derek, something like _because I’m waiting for you_ that’ll make him melt into the bed and into Derek and he’ll have something good for the first time in his life. But Derek doesn’t say anything like that. Instead, his eyes darken and he pushes himself up off Stiles quickly, turning his back to him, wound up tight like he hasn’t been in months. Stiles knows he said something wrong, that he fucked this up and part of him is grateful because he doesn’t know how to handle it when Derek makes him feel so out of control of himself, but this isn’t any better, this is actually maybe a little worse. “Derek?” He’s hesitant to even speak up, knowing Derek’s coiled like a spring now, and he’s not used to it, no longer used to waiting for the older man to strike. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear, it’s just cause you know, me, us, all of us, we want you to be happy...” But this all feels like when Lydia asked him, except Stiles is pretty sure Derek never had a Lydia, Derek could get anybody he wanted whenever he wanted them.

The room is quiet aside from the TV and their breathing, Derek’s like he’s trying to calm down and Stiles’ trying not to show how terrified he actually feels in the moment. They weren’t supposed to be like this anymore, they were friends, hell Derek was more of his best friend than Scott on most days now. He doesn’t know what to do, if he crossed over this line, if it was the wrong thing to say... he’s more scared of losing Derek than anything else.

“Kate Argent.” Derek speaks up finally, his shoulders squared but his head dropping, like he’s trying so hard to keep holding the weight on his shoulders, but it’s too much to take. Stiles cocks his head, because he doesn’t understand, he knows she burned down the Hale house, that she was a hunter, that Peter’s last act as alpha was killing her for what she had done to destroy the Hales. But it doesn’t make sense to bring her up in this context, not until things start to click into place, Stiles’ eyes widening in the realization as Derek tried to bring himself to make his point. “She...” and Derek’s struggling with the words and Stiles just wants to reach out and touch him, to tell him that it’s okay, but he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries. “I thought I was in love.” The words are choked out and Stiles feels like he just got hit with a ton of bricks, and if it hurts _him_ this much to hear it, he can only imagine what Derek’s been carrying around for years.

“Derek...” Stiles starts slow, moves in closer and slips his arms around him from behind, rests his chin down on his shoulder, just keeps him close. Derek leans back into his touch just slightly, enough for Stiles to know he did the right thing, that he needs this, needs Stiles. It hurts to see him like this again, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut, and Stiles knows how hard he’s trying to keep himself in control. “Derek, hey, nobody is ever gonna hurt you again, okay? I won’t let them, they try it and I’m gonna kill them myself, you don’t even need to sic your wolves on them.” He laughs softly into Derek’s shoulder, his hand sliding around to cover Derek’s heart, covering it with the palm of his hand. “We’re pack, right? We protect each other.” And it’s like... Stiles means the words, but they feel like syrup on his tongue, too thick and hard to swallow. He hates that he has to say them, that Derek is too scarred by his past to even think about having a happy future.

It’s what he needs to hear though, Stiles thinks, sees his jaw loosen a little bit, watches as his eyes open, still tinted red. Stiles can’t help himself, leans in to kiss his cheek as Derek turns his head, managing to catch the side of his lips on accident. He probably should have stopped himself, pulls back to see Derek’s eyes fully red, his expression unreadable.

“That was totally an accident; don’t look at me like that.” Stiles backpedals quickly, lifting his hands off Derek, half hoping that Derek was too preoccupied with feelings to hear his heart stutter.

“I’ll be back.” Derek’s too quick for Stiles, he’s got his shirt and jeans on again in seconds and he’s out the door before Stiles can stop him or try to even comprehend what the hell just happened.

Stiles is mostly asleep when Derek gets back. He feels the shift in the bed more than hearing anything else, groaning quietly when Derek pulls him over to rest against him, like for some reason he can’t sleep without touching Stiles.

“I never told anyone that before.” His voice is quiet and Stiles can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he knows better than anyone that werewolves don’t get drunk so that just means that Derek was in a pretty bad place if he was trying. It takes a few seconds for Stiles to realize what he said, that he’d never told _anyone_ that before.

“You mean like _anyone_ anyone?” He’s still not awake, but he can sort of process this, can sort of pretend he’s not both physically and emotionally exhausted at ass o’clock in the morning. He can feel Derek nod more than see it and Stiles just sighs, curls into his side more. “You can tell me anything, you know? I won’t tell anybody, it stays between us. I’m not gonna you know judge you or anything.” The fingers in his hair tell him Derek already knew as much, and Stiles just closes his eyes again. He’s asleep in no time.

\--

The next day should probably feel weird, but for some reason, it doesn’t. Derek’s not as surly as Stiles had expected him to be, and after a grossly large breakfast, they head up to the hills for a stupid amount of hiking that leaves Stiles grumbling and weak limbed and _exhausted_ but Derek’s smiling, and whatever he wasn’t about to make that stop any time soon. He has to whine to get Derek to go back to the hotel, because they have plans and he’s not about to let Derek and his weird nature high keep them from doing that.

Besides, it’s totally worth it when he sees Derek’s face when he whips out the Dodgers tickets, the bright happy kind of surprise that he’s never seen before. Derek’s always been way too good at doing a poker face when something catches him off guard, but this wasn’t something actually out to hurt him or the pack, this was Stiles doing something right, and god it kind of made him go all fluttery inside.

“Stiles.” The way he says it sounds guarded, and Stiles has a feeling he knows what’s coming, knows Derek’s going to start telling him that he didn’t have to do this, that they could have just hung around the house and watched the game and it would have been fine.

“Before you tell me I shouldn’t have and that I’m an awesome friend and that you love me and can no longer imagine your life without me, I should tell you that they’re playing the Mets tonight, so, birthday boy, this is not all about you. Also, prepare to lose, because you are so going down.”

The Dodgers, as it turned out, do not lose. It would have been different if Stiles wasn’t sort of used to the Mets being painfully horrible most of the time, and maybe if Derek hadn’t smiled quite so much. But god, Derek’s smile did things to him, horrible melty things that Stiles was definitely not used to ever happening to him. He wasn’t used to seeing him like this, loose, free, _happy_. He wasn’t used to Derek in a Dodgers hat that Stiles bought him when they got in the stadium; Derek laughing at his stupid jokes and rolling his eyes when he told him to bring him back a beer; Derek bringing him nachos and soda and hot dogs and punching him in the arm carefully when he celebrated a Dodgers run. This would have been Derek before the fire, and Stiles hates Kate more than he ever did for taking this away from them all, for turning Derek into the sour broody werewolf he is on a regular basis instead of this gorgeously happy person Stiles might possibly be in love with.

“You totally used your wolf powers to catch that foul ball, you’re a dick.” Stiles gets the word in around a yawn later that night when they’re watching replays back on Sportscenter, watching the way Derek’s shirt rides up around his stomach on the screen as he reached to catch the ball. It’s in his backpack now, tucked away with the hat and the tickets, because Stiles knows these things are going to wind up precious to him, mementos of maybe the first good day he’s had since he came back to Beacon Hills, from maybe before the fire. Derek’s sprawled out on the bed, half underneath Stiles because cuddling is sort of their thing now but nope Stiles is definitely not going to complain about that. He snorts out a laugh and his fingers wander around Stiles’ upper body, tracing his spine and up his neck and through his hair and back again. His other hand is tucked behind his own head, and he’s loose limbed and just so _happy_ that Stiles almost feels like he wants to cry because of it.

“Thank you. For today and everything. All this.” Derek has this tendency to speak in broken fragments, but Stiles knows what he means this time, feels his heart breaking at the softness of the words. This means a lot to him and he knows it, they both do, and god, Stiles just wishes it wasn’t a terrible idea to kiss him right now, to just tell him everything, that he’s only surviving all of this sometimes because of Derek, that if it weren’t for him he’d be drowning in it all. Instead he says nothing, just curls into his warm body and closes his eyes tight, mumbles something about the Mets still winning the series and it not being over yet. He may or may not swoon when Derek calls him an idiot with such affection he almost can’t believe its being aimed at him.

\--

So Stiles is sort of hopelessly in love with Derek Hale. And he’s not sure how or when it happened, but it did, and it’s kind of intense. Like way more intense with his last feelings of love, or what he thought was love, but Lydia didn’t really make him feel like he was dying on a day to day basis, it was mostly just dreams of a future with a perfect wife and maybe a couple of incredibly intelligent hyperactive strawberry blonde kids. Or some pets, whatever Lydia wanted he would have been fine with when it came down to it. But with Derek, Stiles feels like he’s underwater whenever he’s around him, like he’s drowning in the sea of feelings that come with him. His feelings for Derek remind him of a panic attack, overwhelming and painful and heartbreaking, because Derek is sort of his best friend now and he has a pretty strong feeling that if he tells him how he feels, Derek is going to laugh him right out of the pack. He’s _Derek Hale_ , he’s gorgeous and older and he’s their goddamn alpha. (Stiles would say he’s smart, but really he thinks they’re about even; Derek has a shocking lack of common sense sometimes and he definitely subscribes to act first rationalize your actions later, which really isn’t the smartest thing to do.) Sure, he’s emotionally inept, but his last girlfriend _set his fucking house on fire and killed pretty much his entire family_ , so Stiles doesn’t exactly count that in his cons list. (That list tends to be read in his dad’s voice and bullet points 1-5 are that he was arrested for murder and okay he didn’t do it and it was really tragic how it wound up being his sister and Scott and Stiles were totally to blame for it all, but still. His dad would not be pleased.)

So Stiles is in love with Derek and it’s kind of the worst thing ever.

\--

Senior year starts and it feels like a whole different world. The pack is filled with anxiety of trying to find a college they can all get into, which totally won’t happen because Lydia has dreams and packed be damned, she is not going to community college just because of Scott. Stiles captains the soccer team and everyone turns out for his games and Jackson’s swim meets, because they’re a pack now, they’re family now. There’s no disconnect this year, apparently a happy alpha makes for a happy pack. Scott and Allison put their shit aside and get back together, and Stiles dad even starts dating. (It’s a huge shock on Thanksgiving when it turns out to be Scott’s mom, and really Stiles has no idea how the hell they didn’t manage to put that together.)

The pack decides to split up for college.

Stiles spends a lot of time over Derek’s constantly on the verge of spilling his feelings all over the place.

The soccer team doesn’t go to post season, but they won games, and Stiles actually feels like he accomplished something, so he counts that as points for him.

Acceptance letters come in from across the country.

They all turn eighteen (nineteen in Allison’s case, but nobody actually says anything about it because she still has access to wolfs bane bullets and uses them as threats sometimes when somebody pisses her off). And really, Stiles had thought that Derek would have made a move once he turned eighteen, if he was interested anyway. When it comes and goes without a single change in their routines, Stiles tries not to let it get him down too much.

They pick their schools together, for the best schools they can go to in groups, and Stiles winds up in the Stanford group with Lydia and Jackson and Boyd and Danny. It’s a little more than he can actually afford but when he and Boyd get matching letters that their tuition had been covered by scholarships from the Laura Hale foundation, he knows he’s pack, and that Derek has their backs, wants them to get an education.

They graduate from high school.

\--

Lydia refuses to live in a dorm, is how it starts. So, they rent a house off campus for the five of them, which makes sense when Stiles thinks about it, because Jackson and Boyd are werewolves and that would be a total bitch to explain to roommates. Besides, it’s easier for the rest of the pack to visit, because they’re all staying around Beacon Hills, keeping it close to home.

Jackson and Lydia throw parties from time to time, drunken college students milling around their house and Stiles has to kick more people trying to hook up out of his bedroom than he ever wanted. They study together, party together, deal with full moons together. Jackson and Lydia try to set the three of them up on dates, but Danny doesn’t exactly have any trouble dating and Boyd’s not really interested in anyone but Erica, says it in a way that Jackson’s eyes set because he knows what Boyd means. Stiles doesn’t know, doesn’t care really because wolves are weird and exclusive and he gets that. So Stiles gets all the set ups, all the blind dates with cute and smart girls and boys and some of them even actually wind up thinking he’s pretty awesome, but somehow he can’t manage to connect with them. He should, he knows he should, that his thing with Derek is totally one sided, but it’s like... every time Derek comes to check up on them, he feels like whatever piece had been missing from him has been restored. He feels better, like he can do anything, and it helps him get through mid terms and finals, just calling him to hear his voice and check in on how Scott and Allison and Isaac and Erica are doing. He makes Derek check in on his dad and Scott’s mom and that’s never not going to be weird but it’s like everything is working, like everyone is happy. And so maybe Stiles will be a bachelor with a ridiculous crush on Derek Hale for the rest of his life, but hey, maybe it’ll work.

\--

It’s New Year’s Eve when the pack finally gets back together from spending Christmas with their families, crowding into Derek’s living room to watch the ball drop and spend some time together. There’s champagne, because Lydia always gets what she wants, and Stiles is pretty drunk by the time they get to counting down to midnight. Everyone’s paired off; Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia, Boyd and Erica, Isaac even has a girlfriend, who totally doesn’t know that they’re werewolves just that they are a disgustingly close group of friends who happen to hang out with a really attractive older dude. It’s just Derek and Stiles and he’s definitely drunk enough to think this is a good thing, tugging at Derek’s hand to bring him into the kitchen as everyone else is counting down the seconds.

“Stiles, what? We’re missing the...” and Stiles doesn’t let him finish because it’s midnight and he’s tired of waiting for him. He grabs Derek’s collar and pulls him in close, crushing their lips together. He kisses him like he’s wanted to for years, since he was sixteen and sexually frustrated by him, since he was seventeen and thought the world of him, since he was eighteen and more in love with him than he had ever been with Lydia. He’s nineteen and he’s waited three goddamn years to kiss Derek Hale, and it might just be the best thing he’s ever done.

It definitely rockets up to number one when Derek kisses him back, pushes him against the countertop and balls his hands into Stiles’ shirt, forces his tongue into his mouth. It’s rough and it’s passionate and it’s wanting, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s dead, because there is no way this is real. He doesn’t fight it though, just kisses him until he’s out of breath, pulling his head back to pant, to try and remember why suffocation via Derek’s mouth is kind of a terrible way to die.

“Jesus, Derek” it’s almost a moan, Stiles’ head tilting back just slightly, his hands slipping up from Derek’s collar to his neck, his fingertips grazing into his hair. If there’s more of that in him, he’s going to completely lose it with want, because this is all he’s wanted for so long it’s ridiculous. His voice seems to break whatever spell Derek was under though, the realization obvious in Derek’s eyes as he pushes Stiles’ hands away, moves away from him quickly.

“Is that out of your system now?” His voice is rough and god that cuts, Stiles can feel the tears burning at his eyes in seconds. “That’s not happening again.” And Derek’s wiping his mouth with his forearm and Stiles feels like he wants to die, like Derek just tore out his heart and chewed on it before stomping all over it. He mumbles out something vaguely sounding like _I need to go_ before he’s booking it out, heading towards the Jeep remarkably sober once more.

\--

Derek calls sometimes. Once every few days turns into once a week turns into once every couple of weeks. Stiles makes up excuses why he can’t talk to him and when Jackson presses him, Lydia tells him to leave him alone, because she’s perfect and she knows when something is up. She hasn’t been in the dark about things for a long time, and Stiles was the last person who was going to put her back there, just locking her in the room with him and crying it all out. Because it’s Derek and he meant such a stupid amount to him and now he’s gone and fucked everything up. It wasn’t worth it, knowing the taste of him and finally getting to do it, because he swears he can still taste him some nights when the loneliness crashes over him like a wave, and he can’t talk to him, can only hear how disgusted he sounded when he pushed Stiles away.

\--

Stiles doesn’t say no as much. No doesn’t fix a broken heart, no doesn’t make things any easier to deal with. No is for Derek, for when he calls, when he visits and Stiles finds new ways to sneak out and new reasons to stay gone until Lydia or Danny calls him to give him the all clear. They get it, better than Jackson and Boyd do, but Derek is their alpha and they have their loyalties. Stiles doesn’t expect anything from them, especially not when it’s choosing between him and Derek (although if he’s honest, he thinks Jackson is more on his side than Derek’s in this situation).

So, he dates. He goes out with girls and boys and tries to find someone that can fill the void left in his chest by Derek, tries to forget that the only reason he even has a house to live in and a college education is because Derek’s footing the bill. Scott calls him to ask what happened, why he’s completely avoiding Derek after their weird close friendship thing, but Stiles just tells him there was a misunderstanding and it’s easier to not talk to him. Scott says something about it being back to as horrible as it was it was sophomore year, that a happy alpha made a happy pack and Derek was just so totally not happy. _It’s his own fault_ , Stiles thinks, but never says out loud, because as much as Scott resisted being part of Derek’s pack, he is, always has been.

Stiles dates and no one lasts, but it’s no one’s fault but his. The closest he comes to a relationship is with this guy with dark hair and a broody face, but when he smiles, it’s all wrong, and Stiles just can’t bring himself to get used to it.

\--

“I’m going to die alone.” Stiles has a flair for the dramatic sometimes, throwing himself across Lydia’s bed and burying his face into her pillows, a huff of a laugh coming from her over at her desk.

“Because you’re an idiot.” He can’t exactly argue with her when she’s right, which is pretty much always, so he shrugs and lets out a loud groan, pulling her pillows over his head.

“It’s the Hales, Hales ruin lives. They made all our friends weird supernatural creatures and traumatized us and it’s all their fault. Fucking Hales.” The speech probably would have been better if Stiles had lifted his head out of her pillows, but he’s sure Lydia got the gist of it anyway, if her quiet “fucking Hales” was anything to go by. He had her at least, not in the way he had wanted for so long, but being best friends with Lydia Martin was kind of the greatest, especially when she had his back like this.

\--

Stiles has been letting his hair grow out. It’s a breakup thing maybe, or maybe he’s just sick of what he sees when he looks in the mirror, but he’s been letting it grow, even when it starts to become an unruly thing. He remembers why he kept it so short all the time, but he needs change, needs something to make him different from the kid that let Derek break his heart, needs to be somebody else. He contemplates even letting people use his real name, but after the first time it spills from a date’s lips he hates it immediately, makes her call him Stiles again, because it just reminds him of his mom, reminds him that everyone he lets in winds up leaving him. It makes him miss his mom more, and it’s why his first stop after coming home from the summer is the cemetery.

They don’t like to go too often, the Stilinski men. It hurts still, even with his dad dating again, no one’s ever really going to replace her, she was his true love and everyone else is just filler. Stiles recounts all of this to his mom’s headstone, sitting in front of it as he cleans up the flowers planted around it, plants new ones, picks at the grass. He tells her everything about how Scott got bit and everything that happened since, because even if she can’t fix it all, can’t tell him it’ll be okay or what to do, he can at least feel like she’s listening, like the cool summer breeze is her breath and her arms and she’s around him, like she’ll always be. He tells her about Derek, about how he thought he was in love and he waited until he couldn’t anymore. He tells her how Derek shot him down, and he cries a little, wishes that he could feel her arms around him and tell him that he’s better than that, that he deserves someone who will love him and treat him right, that he’s worth it and someone will treat him like he is one day. He gets it all off his chest until the weight is gone and he just feels hollow inside, like without all of that he’s just a shell of a boy, because everyone he knows has taken bits and pieces of him and almost no one has stopped to fill him back up. He gets up to leave and kisses her headstone lightly, because well, it’s gross, but it’s his mom and she would get it.

It’s when Stiles is about to head back to the Jeep that he sees the figure at the edge of the tree line. There’s only one person he knows that likes to lurk among trees that much and it doesn’t take long for the anger to build up in him, because this was supposed to be a private fucking moment, and not something for him to trespass on. Stiles knows Derek’s caught on that he’s been seen, watches him walk forward, his face unreadable as ever.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that.” Stiles calls out when Derek’s about halfway, but Derek doesn’t say anything until he closes the gap, until he’s close enough for Stiles to see the darkness in his eyes, the dark circles beneath them, his stubble thicker and darker than he’s ever seen it. He thinks if it was anyone but Derek he would look like shit, but he somehow looks amazing like this, like whatever turmoil he’s in can’t possibly affect how stupidly handsome he is.

“We need to talk, Stiles.” And god, his voice, Stiles missed his voice so much. He wants to close his eyes and sink into Derek’s chest and hold onto him, to tell him that it’s okay, they’re idiots, they can work this out. He won’t of course, but he wants to, god does he want to.

“You need to fuck off is what you need to do. This was between me and my mom and you weren’t supposed to be fucking eavesdropping on that. You need to stop being such a massive creep and just stop ruining my life. That’s all we need to do.” He shoves at Derek’s chest hard enough for him to stumble back slightly, almost losing his footing on the downward slope of the hill. He sees a flash of red in Derek’s eyes, but they’re that stunning shade of green grey again with a blink and a deep breath.

“I wasn’t fair to you and I need to explain...”

“No, you weren’t, but it’s my fault, right? Cause I thought there was more to you than this emotionally damaged alpha thing, but there’s really not, is there? This is all you know, so you stick with it and you let people in and push them away and you forget that not everyone is out to hurt you or fuck you over or something and it’s frustrating, Derek, it’s horribly frustrating.”

“No, what’s frustrating is your inability to let anyone else ever get a word in edgewise, Stiles.” And really, Stiles wishes that the way Derek growled out his words, _his name_ , wasn’t so goddamn attractive, but he’s not letting his hormones get in the way of his righteous indignation.

“What’s the point? You made it all very clear, so we clearly have nothing to talk about anyway, right? Because I’m just Stiles, stupid human Stiles, and I’m just the weak link in the chain. Oh I can do research, yeah that’s a real handy skill to have. What use was I ever gonna be to anyone? I’m just the comic relief, let’s all laugh at Stiles, he’s good for that at least.” He just wants to go, wants to hide in his room for the rest of summer and never come out, not so long as it means running into Derek or the pack. He misses them during the school year, sure, but he needs a break from all of it, from Jackson and Boyd, maybe not so much Lydia and Danny. But they’re all reminders of how useless he is, and he doesn’t need to hear it from Derek too, doesn’t need some excuses about him lifting pack morale or something. So he turns and starts to walk away, because fuck it. Fuck it all, Stiles doesn’t need this bullshit anymore.

He can feel Derek’s eyes on him, boring into him as he makes his way up the other side of the hill, and if he has to take the long way to the Jeep to avoid Derek, then fine, because Derek is an asshole and a life ruiner, and he’s so tired of all of it. It does feel like sophomore year all over again, he feels useless and broken and it’s like he can feel the weight of it all crushing down on him again, because he’s never going to be anything better than bait, because everyone is always going to be stuck saving him.

\--

To say Stiles is drunk is an understatement. Stiles is completely obliterated, stumbling over his feet and banging into people and walls, but he feels light and cheerful and is thoroughly enjoying Greenberg’s party. He remembers half the people there, because they’ve been out of high school for a year already and that’s crazy, and people have changed a lot in that short amount of time. He’s dancing with whoever is there, laughing and slurring out jokes, because this is what college kids should be doing, not brooding over werewolves. Being stupid is something he’s remarkably good at, and he’s enjoying it thoroughly tonight.

It’s when the cops come that Stiles bails, because he really doesn’t need his dad to see him drunk off his ass when he’s still only 19 and that’s technically illegal, taking off down the street and into the woods. It makes him laugh because he always ends up in the woods, everything bad always happens to him in the goddamn woods. He stumbles around long enough to wind up at Derek’s house, because he always knows how to get there, it’s been burned into his brain since he was sixteen, if he was ever lost in the woods go to Derek’s because someone would always be there to keep him safe. So Stiles walks up the road, knows if Derek’s home he’ll hear him, smell him, something. And he’s drunk enough for this challenge, he’s won three rounds of beer pong, he is _invincible_.

“DEREK!” Stiles has a big mouth and he’s not afraid to use it. It doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the night and he’s probably sleeping and there are probably people over, he doesn’t care. He wants to get this over with, to feel strong again, to feel like he can actually matter to someone again. “Derek I know you can hear me or smell me or whatever so you need to come down here right now!” And the truth is, Stiles is feeling vindictive and kind of mean, he kind of hopes Derek has someone over so he can make him feel shitty in front of them. It means tears for him later, but he can take it, he’s a big boy.

“Stiles.” Derek looks good in the dark, looks the way Stiles remembers him best, half asleep and rumpled. He ignores the part where Derek’s annoyed instead of pleased, but Stiles really doesn’t care, because he’s still invincible and there’s nothing Derek can do to stop him now.

“Butthole.” Stiles counters back, trying to lean forward menacingly, but only succeeding in losing his balance and stumbling, arms wind milling around him. He makes his way up to the porch slowly, to Derek and his arms crossed over his broad chest. He has no fear, because Derek’s already burned him once and he’s still not recovered from that, whatever happens is just going to happen. Derek stays quiet though, assessing the situation probably, or maybe just waiting for Stiles to say his piece like he always does. “I hate you.” It’s not eloquent, or what he had in mind at all, but pressing his hand into Derek’s chest to push him back makes him feel better, makes him feel powerful, because Derek is a big bad alpha werewolf and Stiles is a lowly human, but he can do this. “I hate you, and I like want to fight you. For your affections.”

Derek huffs out a laugh and his arms are dropping, reaching out for Stiles. “You’re drunk and acting stupid, so come in and sleep it off. Does your father know you’re out, is he expecting you back?” His hands are on Stile’s shoulders, but it feels so condescending it makes his skin crawl. Because he’s not some drunk kid who needs to be taken care of. Okay, so maybe he actually is, but not by Derek, by somebody who loves him and deserves his love back. Not Derek Hale, that’s never been Derek Hale. Stiles swings out from under his grip and pushes at Derek again until he stumbles back, his hands balling into fists as he waits for the fallout. Derek’s eyes flash red for a second, but they’re back again quickly, because controlling his temper is actually something Derek’s gotten good at.

“I hate you so much and I want to know why.” Stiles’ voice cracks and he feels all his bravado slipping away, feeling stupid and vulnerable. “Because it just... it didn’t have to change, you know? We could have stayed the way we were, I just wanted you to know and I thought it was cause I was a kid, but I’m nineteen, Derek, I’m not a kid and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair, longer on his fingers than he’s used to and he feels like the dam he’s built is about to break inside him. “And now, I am alone. And I don’t understand, I don’t understand how you’ve made yourself at home inside me and I can’t let anyone else in because I’m just filled up with you.” He just feels sad and kind of dizzy, sinking down to sit on the porch, not bothering to meet Derek’s eyes. He doesn’t mind it, just turns his back to him and moves to sit on the steps, swaying a little as the breeze comes through the trees.

“I didn’t think you’d feel it too.” Derek’s voice is quiet as he moves to sit next to Stiles, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, letting him lean on his broad shoulder. He’s drunk enough to, and drained enough to, and he almost wants to cry because fuck this is like the worst.

“What do you mean?” And Stiles hates his voice after that, hates how small and fragile he sounds because he doesn’t want to be that way, doesn’t want to be this person. He just wants the truth, wants Derek to use his words for once, because Stiles is tired of being in the dark and jerked around.

“I thought like...” and it’s hard for Derek, Stiles knows this, it always has been. “I thought you’re still a kid, you need to enjoy college and experience all those things and you can’t do that with me back here. I can’t go there with you, because I’ve got the rest of the pack, and they have to come first.” It’s not like Derek knows he’s driving a knife into Stiles’ heart. He realizes that much, that Derek is just an idiot when it comes to talking, but all of this pack comes first bullshit sucks. Stiles didn’t want anything out of him, he didn’t want things to change from what they were, he just wanted to kiss him once in awhile, for Derek to know that he loved him and for Derek to love him back. He didn’t need this you’re secondary to my pack bullshit and it’s making everything hard to breathe, because wow, that sucks.

“This was such a bad idea.” Stiles is trying to stand, but it’s kind of impossible, his legs are shaky and his vision is blurry and Derek is pulling him back down, stronger than him on a good day, let alone on one where he’s drunk and tired and crushed.

“Stiles.” Derek’s firm, pulling him back down like Stiles is nothing but a ragdoll he can toss around. Another thing to add to the list of why Stiles hates his life right now. “It’s not like you think, they’re not more important than you. They need me more. I can’t just up and abandon them because I want to be around you. I have a responsibility as their alpha to be there for them. I knew Jackson and Boyd would be alright with you three, especially with you, but the rest of them need me here. So nothing could happen, I thought you would date and be a kid.” Derek’s hand is still wrapped around Stiles’ wrist, fingers digging into his skin just slightly.

“You’re still not making any sense. So you basically told me this was never going to happen because you wanted me to date other people? Derek, that’s stupid. You’re so stupid, use your words.” Stiles hears Derek huff, but he’s confused and tired and Derek’s just making stupid excuses now. “Jesus, at least give me a good excuse like my ex burned down my house and killed my family and I have trouble trusting people now. _That’s_ a valid excuse where I would be like okay, Derek, you are traumatized but have I not spent three years being trustworthy? I’ve been good to you and the pack and I wouldn’t hurt your stupid ass, because I’m not her and I love you but you’re too stupid to see that. That we could work past, not this, be a kid I’m too old for you and can’t be there bullshit, because you’re not that much older than me, idiot, and I didn’t want things to change anyway. I can’t date other people, Derek, cause you’re all in here.” Stiles gestures wildly at himself before dropping his arms again, leaning back against Derek’s warm body, letting his eyes close. “And I can’t get rid of you no matter how hard I try. So tell me again why you’re being a giant bag of dicks to me.”

He can feel Derek’s sigh more than hear it, and the thing is Stiles knows. He knows he’s got Derek backed up into a corner but he wants the truth and if he has to deal with an angry puppy nipping at his heels to get it, he will. Derek won’t hurt him physically, and it’s not like he can do any more emotional damage to him, they’re already pretty fucked.

“It’s because you’re my mate.” Derek says it slowly, and Stiles is confused for a second, processing what he just said exactly and what that means. “I thought you were too young to know, and too young to be tied down to me. You didn’t need to know what it meant, and it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t want you to resent me for not letting you experience everything because if we do it, we do it forever.” He lets out another heavy sigh and Stiles can hear the way his teeth are grinding, that he’s angry that the truth was pried out of him like that. He’s in shock though, because mates? That’s just... it’s not that Stiles doesn’t believe in fate, because dealing with Allison and Scott long enough, he gets that. And it makes sense if he thinks about it, the way they’ve all gone through their ups and downs but still love each other and keep making it through. It makes sense why Lydia always loved Jackson so much, even when he was being a giant prick, and why Boyd had such a shit freshman year being away from Erica.

“That doesn’t explain the bag of dicks.” Because the thing is Stiles can wrap his head around the mate thing. Or he will, when he’s sober and his head doesn’t feel like he’s underwater and Derek doesn’t smell like home and all he wants to do is curl up into him and sleep forever. “Cause you were a huge bag of dicks.”

“Traumatized by relationships and don’t know how to use my words?” Derek offers and Stiles punches him weakly in the side.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, asshole. But I’m gonna fall asleep on you in about two seconds.” Derek’s gentle with him, tugging him up and carrying him up the stairs, and Stiles only throws up once in the bathroom (and a little bit on Derek’s shoes, but he didn’t understand that _mush_ was not a sled dog joke, so it’s not like Stiles didn’t try to warn him it was happening or anything). He falls asleep with his head on Derek’s chest, counting each beat of his heart.

\--

“So.” Stiles starts, biting into a piece of whole wheat toast because this is a hard conversation to have with his father, and it’s best to break news to him over meals. He’s learned this along the way, if he lets his dad get away with eating something horrible for him, he’ll be less apt to yell at him. Stiles kind of hates the yelling and the disappointment and he hasn’t been much trouble since things cooled down and Derek became a better alpha but you know, parental approval is kind of a big deal. The sheriff looks at him over his coffee, like he knows Stiles is about to drop a bomb on him and he’s not sure if he wants to hear it.

“Say what’s on your mind.” His dad sounds like he’s going to regret it no matter what, and Stiles doesn’t say anything as he watches him dig into the pancakes and the face he makes when he figures out they’re still whole wheat pancakes. Stiles kind of grins at that one, because he’s a mastermind of getting his dad to eat healthy and well, it’s too late now.

“So, I’m kind of dating Derek Hale.” He stops at that part, lets him digest it a little because he doesn’t want to overload his dad with information.

“Is this supposed to be news? Or should I just be glad you’re finally telling me?” And that... that was not the reaction Stiles was expecting. He swallows, chokes more like it, and downs about half a glass of orange juice which really doesn’t help, before choking out a _what?!_. “Sheriff.” His dad points to himself, before turning his fork to Stiles. “Delinquent son.” He points to the door, where Stiles half expects Derek to be lurking, but he thinks his dad might just be making a point when no one is there. “Suspected felon hanging around my son. I’m not stupid, Stiles, there’s a reason I’m sheriff. Just remind Derek that you are my son and I’m not afraid to shoot him.”

And Stiles kind of can’t help the stupid grin on his face at that, because his dad took that a lot better than he expected, and hell, he might even bring him a Danish at work later, because seriously, best dad in the world.

“So, like, does that mean if he’s around you’re gonna be nice to him? Cause like he’s probably your future son in law, you know? Like we’re gonna get married and adopt adorable children and it’s gonna be...”

“Stiles.” The Sheriff gives him a pointed look and Stiles stops, because yeah, even if he’s kind of sure of it after the whole mates for life talk with Derek, he can’t exactly explain that to anyone else.

“Thanks dad.” And it’s good, for once, everything seems to be really really good.

\--

And it’s not - they’re not romantic. Stiles doesn’t need it and Derek is emotionally constipated a lot of the time, but it’s nice. They hang out together like they always did and it’s little things, like the way Derek touches Stiles’ neck to calm him down when he’s freaking out about something, or the way Stiles can talk Derek out of a rage. It’s the way Stiles can call Derek during midterms when he’s off the rails on caffeine and studying and Derek tells him stories about when he was a kid to bring Stiles back down to earth. It’s the way Derek smiles when they go see the Dodgers whenever they’re doing a homestead against the Mets, the way Stiles lets Derek come with him to his mom’s grave to introduce him to her. It’s the way Derek kisses his ear and tells him to go to grad school - even if it’s another few years apart, he wants what’s best for him. It’s the ways they don’t say they love one another and it’s all the ways they do.

It’s the way the way they sneak out to dance at Allison and Scott’s wedding, because Derek won’t in front of everybody, but Stiles wants to. It’s the crisp fall wind around them, the smell of rain fresh all around them and the way they fit together as they sway to the music drifting out to the patio, it’s all the words they don’t need to say in that moment because they know.

\--

“We should get married.” Stiles should really be paying more attention to his textbook than his TV, because he’s been trying to get a couple of online classes in over the summer so he can get his degree in January instead of spending an entire school year in Stanford instead of coming back home. His attention is fried, but its summer, he’s not used to being cooped up and trying to focus on schoolwork. It’s just that Lydia’s in the living room watching wedding shows to get ideas on how to make her’s a million times better than everybody else’s - like having a destination wedding in Paris wasn’t already going to blow everybody else out of the water.

And it’s just the look that Derek gives him that says it all, that he’s so not into it even though they both know they’re it for one another. It’s the big deal of it, Stiles knows, and it makes him laugh, watching Derek’s face go from his patented _Stiles are you fucking kidding me_ look to slightly offended at Stiles for laughing at him.

“I don’t mean like have a huge wedding, Derek, don’t give me that look. I know you better than that.” And he does, because Derek will freeze up if it means being affectionate in front of people he’s uncomfortable around, because Derek is weird and awkward about being in a relationship. He trusts Stiles, and he trusts the pack, but that’s about the extent of it. He watches as Derek goes back to fussing over the stove, because it turns out that Derek is a ridiculously good cook and it sort of makes up for Stiles attempts to steam everything to keep everyone healthy. “I just think like, you and me, maybe my dad, the pack? We don’t have to go all crazy and fly to Paris and make everyone lose their minds.”

“I heard that and resent you for it!” Lydia calls from the living room and Stiles just laughs, because it’s ridiculous, but he loves them all.

“I’m not gonna talk you into something you don’t want, Derek. I just think like, you know, I know you have super wolf healing powers, but I don’t? And if something ever happens to me I want you to be able to see me.” It makes him nervous to talk about, makes him pick at the pages of his textbook and Derek can sense the change in his heartbeat, turning to look at him. He knows that it’s all about his mom, that he’s imagining something equally as awful happening to him, but Derek gets it, just grunts out an approval.

“Pick a date.” Is all he says and Stiles is all smiles again, slow at first, and it’s not at all romantic, but hey, getting Derek Hale to agree to marry him is a huge step.

\--

It’s not Paris in early summer and pack pictures under the Eiffel tower. It’s not a ballroom in Beacon Hills with a ton of people and loud music. It’s not even a sweet ceremony under the light of the half moon in the woods like Boyd and Erica’s. Instead, it’s just a court date with the Sheriff and Scott and Lydia, because Stiles needs to have the people he loves most with him for this. It’s a pack dinner at the house after with ridiculous amounts of take out, because everyone wants different things and Allison has weird cravings for mixing things together since she got pregnant. It’s a cold night in March before the Blue Moon, and the pack will stay the night so they can all shift and run during the full moon, but Stiles doesn’t mind, because it’s family. He has a place, and he is loved, and it doesn’t matter that he’s human and most of them aren’t. He’s the glue that keeps all of them together, simply just because he keeps Derek together, and that seems like a pretty important job after all.

It might not be happily ever after, but Stiles is pretty happy. And it is, after all, for as long as they live. That’s enough for him.


End file.
